Work Text:
The student sat in disbelief, and beheld the many, many coins that Scapinelli poured out from his pouch.
What a fool he was. Thinking it was just a little joke.
Scapinelli takes his work seriously.
He knew what he wanted.
Walking over to the mirror, and followed by the student, who was still shook, he threw a wolfish grin and said, "I want your sole."
Demonic contracts are finicky little things when it comes to phrasing.
Scapinelli forgot that.
The student's foot shook, the sole of his shoe ripped itself out and wormed up Scapinelli, finally settling into his hand.